


that mourns in lonely exile

by Cerberusia



Series: KarKri at Christmas [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-18 02:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21820135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberusia/pseuds/Cerberusia
Summary: Kankri comes back from his first term at Cambridge just as much of a blowhard as he went.
Relationships: Kankri Vantas/Karkat Vantas
Series: KarKri at Christmas [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572295
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	that mourns in lonely exile

Kankri comes back from his first term at Cambridge just as much of a blowhard as he went. Except now he can say _Well, my tutor says_... and all his tutors are big name theological scholars or something, except you're suffering through compulsory GCSE Religious Studies and you don't know who the fuck any of these people are. If you say as much to Kankri, he'll try to tell you, which is even worse. Much of your home life is based around trying to avoid having Kankri _explain_ things to you. They could recruit Kankri for MI6 and make him an interrogator for terrorists: he would just have to stand there and patiently explain his own interpretation of the hadiths until the prisoner broke and confessed all.

The school term is still going on, since Cambridge terms are stupidly short, so you get to spend plenty of time away from Kankri, who is catching up with his schoolfriends too and taking trains all over the country to visit them. It baffles you, slightly, that Kankri has friends - friends who wanted to stay in touch with him after they all finished school and no longer had to talk to him for convenience's sake! - but then, you're also baffled that _you_ have friends who hang out with you outside school and everything. All your and Kankri's friends must have the patience of saints. Or at least a talent for selective deafness.

So you're busy and Kankri's busy, and you do see each other but usually in passing, not enough time to chat. Which is just fine by you.

You last two days of Kankri being home before you snap.

Kankri has been looking at you with those eyes, that coy expression he probably doesn't even know he puts on. He won't make a move himself, and you haven't touched him in weeks beyond a compelled brotherly hug when you and Dad picked him up from the station. You haven't done anything Like That since you went to visit Kankri in Cambridge before he did the reading in the carol service. Broadcast to the nation via radio, that was, and listening to Kankri read the verse about there being no room at the inn so smoothly and clearly had made you feel genuinely proud of your elder brother. And then there'll be the telly version on Christmas Eve, and you'll all three of you watch it, like every year, and you can no doubt find something to tease Kankri about when his bit comes on.

In the meantime, you have sex to catch up on.

Kankri has let slip a couple of times that he likes it when you sneak into his bed. So you wait until Dad is asleep and all the lights are out before you cross the small landing to Kankri's room. There's a thin beam of light under the door, and you aren't surprised to open it to find Kankri sitting in bed, reading by lamplight. Kankri's bedside lamp is a glass Tiffany piece that used to belong to Mum, with a design of a bird and some pink flowers. You love it fiercely. You know why it was given to Kankri - he _is_ older, and a safer pair of hands - but you covet it anyway.

For once in his life, Kankri doesn't greet your entrance with a smarmy or snide comment. He looks up from his book, catches the expression on your face, and reaches for his bookmark. His eyes are very dark and liquid in the low light - he's got the same long, thick, dark lashes as the rest of the family. Even for brothers, you look _very_ similar, to the point where if you were closer in age people would probably assume you were twins. Does that make it even weirder that you're fucking?

You pull back the covers and get into bed with him. It's all so very nearly chaste, so plausibly deniable, like you've got into bed with him for a brotherly chat, like you're the kind of brothers who do that kind of thing (you're pretty sure you don't know _any_ brothers who do that kind of thing). Dad would think it was really sweet that you were bonding and getting along after nearly tearing the house apart with your teenaged arguments.

Kankri reaches for you immediately, and you curl into his warm side. You even kiss him, which normally you don't like because it makes it feel too much like you're _boyfriends_ or something, like this is romantic instead of just sex. Kissing excites you too much, makes your body go hot and quivery, and you feel like you're giving something away about yourself that it's embarrassing for Kankri to know.

If anything, Kankri likes kissing even more than you do, when you deign to do it instead of pushing away or redirecting his mouth to other parts of you. He wraps his arms around you, crushes you to him, and you...well, you kiss him and put your arms around his waist. You get your fingers up under his t-shirt and start to tease the small of his back, rubbing little circles on his warm skin.

It's nice. Cozy. Intimate. When you finally get a girlfriend or a boyfriend or whatever, you'd like to do this with them, this kind of leisurely heavy petting, the two of you getting more and more into it and randy. You've got a hard-on that tenting your shorts, and you're sure Kankri must be the same. He gets so embarrassed about it too, like it's not normal to get hard when somebody's touching you up. Kankri talks a big game about the values of celibacy and being above base physical pleasures, but you're pretty sure it's all just a front for nobody being willing to date him. Hell, if he weren't your brother, _you_ sure wouldn't be doing this with him.

That just makes you sound like you have an incest fetish. (The voice that tells you this sounds a lot like Dave, who is _definitely_ an incest fetishist and scarcely able to keep a lid on it in polite company.) What-the-fuck-ever. You wind one hand in your brother's hair and feel him make a little noise into your mouth. Oh yeah, Kankri loves having his hair pulled. You push his mouth open wider and really jam your tongue into his mouth. You're pretty sure it's not what would be called _good_ kissing technique, but it's what Kankri likes, and you've not really kissed anybody else enough to know for sure.

You can't be too loud, because Dad's asleep across the landing – at least you hope he's asleep, because his light was off when you checked - but it's not like when you did this in semi-public in the King's chapel and Kankri nearly chewed his own fingers off trying to keep quiet. You're not some kind of exhibitionist or anything, but you'd known exactly why he'd suggested you come see him before the service, and it _had_ been a thrill getting off with other people so nearby. You'd just been so goddamn randy with Kankri away at uni - more specifically, you'd been sex-starved, and your left hand didn't cut it.

You get hold of the tent in Kankri's pyjama bottoms, and he makes a pleased noise into your mouth. Kankri's practically fully dressed in his fussy pyjamas, and you're here in just shorts and a t-shirt. You might not even bother to get his clothes off: it's kind of sexy to do it while you're both still half-dressed, afraid the door might open any minute. So long as you can get to his plump arse, it's fine.

You sucked Kankri off last time, so it's only fair that he does you this time. He likes it when you're dominant, so you pull his hair harder, then let go and pull down your shorts to let your hard dick spring free. You've done this enough that Kankri knows exactly what you want. You wriggle so you're propped up against the pillows, like Kankri was when you came in, and get your dick in hand while Kankri shuffles down the bed to get eye-to-eye with it.

Kankri takes the head in his mouth carefully, but eagerly. You take hold of his hair again - softer than yours, because he actually uses conditioner or whatever - and let him suck your dick. He's nice like this. Quiet. Submissive.

The problem with Kankri is - well, one of the _many_ problems with Kankri is - he just doesn't know when to shut up.

And, OK, nor do you if we're going to be absolutely honest. Ranting on and on past the point where the listener cares is a family trait. But you may say a fuckton of rude words, but at least you don't try to put people down. You may rant and rave, but at least you have _conversations_ , instead of just drowning people in a tide of your own smug intellectual onanism.

You tug Kankri's hair and pulls his mouth further down your dick. Kankri doesn't gag, just takes it. _Yeah, that's right, stop spewing shit and put your mouth to really making somebody happy._ You both know Kankri enjoys getting face-fucked. Kankri likes anything that's kind of dirty. You like to talk while Kankri sucks you off, just let any random filth flow out of your mouth, and you know you've hit a good one when Kankri squirms.

He really wants you to pretend to force him. You've never done it, and you don't know if you're going to; but that's what he wants. He wants somebody to pin him down and call him a slut and a bitch, and fuck him hard while he cries. Well, that's what he thinks he wants, anyway. You just think it figures that the guy who goes around pretending to be super sensitive and into 'consent culture' has a huge rape kink. Not that he told you, or anything: you just went through his laptop history and spun him a fantasy while you fucked him. It was hot, you should do it again some time.

You hold Kankri's head still for a moment so you can move your dick in and out of his mouth. You can't go far and it's kind of awkward, but you know Kankri loves it. He loves the idea that you might fuck his face, make him take your dick. If it's pervy, Kankri likes it. He's weirdly into watching you piss, too, except he pretends he's not. He's friends with Eridan's older brother, who's a massive, utter tosser and a sex pest with it, and you're ninety percent sure it's a friendship founded on them both being obsessed with sex and having their heads stuffed up their own colons.

You'd asked him once whether he'd done anything like this with Cronus, who's definitely randy enough to try it on with him. He'd looked scandalised and spluttered about how inappropriate it was that you'd even ask that, which probably meant Cronus had offered and Kankri hadn't been brave enough to take him up on it. Or too sensible, you guess. Cronus is bad news, and even Kankri can't be thick enough or self-absorbed enough not to realise that. Cronus is what Eridan might turn into, if you don't keep smacking down his worst self-pitying impulses. Fuck knows what they teach them at fancy private schools, because all the kids you know who go to the local independent are _weird_ , even for teenagers.

Kankri looks up at you, and that's pretty good, that's definitely something he's got from the porn he swears (lies) he doesn't watch. It would help if he actually cleared his search history once in a while. His Pornhub account is wall-to-wall 'femboys' with big asses getting railed hard or face-fucked or hit or pissed on. He probably wants you to tell him he's disgusting. He probably left his search history right there for you to find.

He looks good with his mouth around your cock and his big dark eyes looking up at you. If you were going to be absolutely fucking stupid, you'd get your phone and take a photo of that face. It's not like anybody would recognise it was your dick, right? But having a pic of your brother sucking any dick at all on your phone is way too risky. Shame: you could keep it to wank to later, when Kankri's gone back to university and you're back to humping a pillow.

You pull him off your dick by the hair, and he's scrambling to assume the position as soon as the head pops out of his mouth. He lets you pull down his pyjama bottoms, because you like to undress him. You pull them down to around his knees, so you can give his hard-on a good fondle with one hand while you squeeze his arse hard with the other. You can be rough with him - you pretty much maul him, digging your blunt nails into Kankri's plump bottom. It's a great arse, to be honest, though tragically hidden by his collection of long thick jumpers. You'd told him that if he wore something more flattering to his arse when visiting Latula and Mituna, they might be more likely to invite him for a threesome. _That_ had shut him up for three whole seconds as he obviously contemplated that in glorious technicolour and went steadily redder and redder in the face. Then he exploded, of course; but it was worth it.

You told him another time, while you had your dick in his mouth, that you should take a video of him like that and snapchat it to Latula - you're sure Terezi would give you her sister's account name if you asked. She no doubt thinks Kankri is a stuck-up prude (which, to be fair, he is), so she should _really_ enjoy pictures of Kankri being disgusting and sucking his little brother's dick. Kankri had looked like he was so turned on he might cry, and you didn't let him come until you were done because it was fun to watch him rub his hard-on through his leggings then tear his hand away and whine around your cock.

You get the lube out of his beside drawer - demurely hidden away – and apply some to your dick. He can take it with just spit, and probably likes it better that way, but you think it feels better with some actual lube. Sometimes you finger him beforehand, which actually feels weirder than putting your dick up there, but he goes absolutely wild for it so you stop caring about that pretty quick. But you're in a hurry, so you just press the wet tip of your dick to his hole, and start to push it in.

Kankri keeps his head down and takes deep breaths. It's hard to get hold of his throat like this, but you might do it anyway, since it's been so many weeks since you've had a chance to do this. All you can see is his heaving back and his dark curly head, like he's some anonymous uni student who's picked you up and just wants a good, hard fuck. Nothing so complicated as your actual brotherly relationship with this pompous blowhard who read stories to you when you were little and still calls you _Kitkat_ , just occasionally, when you let him cuddle you.

You get your dick all the way inside him, so easy. Maybe he does this when he's off at uni, plays with his hole and imagines it's you doing it. That's hot. He moans when you're balls-deep with your pelvis flush against his arse, and that's hot too. You've jerked it while thinking about this, of course, but memories can't compare to the tight hot clench of Kankri's body around your dick.

You can't take it too fast, or Kankri will make too much noise. He's got his face buried in his pillow, but his back is heaving with desperate breaths. He always gets so into it, like when girls fake orgasms in 'squirting' videos. It's tempting to think he's faking because he thinks he should, but the best bit is that he's definitely not. He's such a prim, up-tight little busybody, all wrapped up in his thick sweaters and sanctimony, and when you fuck him he goes absolutely _wild_. It's slightly depressing to think you'll probably never have sex with anyone else who gets so excited about your dick. He's holding himself very still, but his thighs are clenching in anticipation.

You withdraw, then slowly push your dick into him again. He shakes and lets out a muffled noise. It's like getting fucked unlocks a different voice inside him. He's actually pretty hot like this, sexy in a way you wouldn't think of your brother as being in literally any other context. Because a) your brother, and b) Kankri.

You do him gently, all things considered, too conscious of Dad in the next room and the imminent threat of discovery. You could get a lot rougher with him and he'd like it. Once when you were angry with each other - Kankri claims he doesn't get angry with you, just disappointed, but you know what that face means - you really went for it, really held him down and bit him on the neck, and Kankri absolutely _howled_ beneath you. Sometimes, when he's really winding you up, you think he might be angling to get fucked like that again.

The hot pressure of Kankri's body is amazing around your dick, as if it's pulling you in. His body is so soft and welcoming. It makes it easier to ignore the absolute shit he talks when you're not doing this. You keep thrusting as deep as you can, keeping the pace slow and furtive, and watch Kankri's heaving ribcage. The house is silent except for the occasional distant roar of traffic, and you can hear the little panting moans Kankri is muffling in his pillow. He twists restlessly, like he's trying to escape the grip of the unbearable pleasure you're inflicting on him.

If you fuck him just right, he might be able to come without touching his dick. That would be good. He did it once before, when he was so into it he couldn't wait and act all demure and like it was all your idea, just pulled you down and climbed on top of you and got your dick inside him like he was gagging for it. You couldn't thrust properly but Kankri didn't care, just kept squirming on your dick and juddering back and forth like he couldn't even control himself, until he stiffened all over, sat down hard, and had to grab his cock as he came on your stomach. You've wanked to that memory a _lot_.

He's moving with you now, rocking his hips and stifling gasps into the pillow. You should go visit him up in Cambridge again, stay the night, meet his new friends (assuming he has any) then screw him in his narrow uni bed, just like this. You can imagine his scrunched-up face and how he'll be biting his bottom lip. God, being inside him feels incredible.

Kankri takes a louder, shuddering inhale, and you smack him to remind him to be quiet. It sets his arse quivering and just makes him moan louder. Whoops. Could Kankri come just from you smacking him? Spanking, it's called in porn. Maybe, if you called him nasty names while you did it. Another one to put on the list.

Your spine is tingling, and you force yourself to slow down before Kankri can start howling the house down. He wants so desperately for you to fuck him harder and you want that too, but short an actual gag or cast-iron guarantee Dad is really asleep, you can't risk it. He can whine if he likes; let him experience some real frustration for once.

Kankri's getting more into it, really squirming beneath you like he's trying to fuck himself on your dick. You dig your blunt nails into his hips and try to keep yourself under control. Oh God, it's been so _long_ since you did this. You know you're chewing your lip to ribbons, because if you start making noise, you'll never stop. Everything's so hot, your whole body is prickling, and you can feel your heartbeat in your dick. Oh God, you've got to come.

Kankri whimpers and a shudder runs through him and that's it, your dick is throbbing and the aching sparkling knot at the base is winding tighter and tighter, and you grab his hips harder and really fuck him in hard, urgent thrusts for about five seconds before everything unravels and your vision blurs as your dick spurts come into Kankri's welcoming hole.

You're dimly aware of Kankri moving beneath you, still fucking himself on your cock now you've gone still. Your mouth is open and thank God all that's coming out are stuttering little gasps, because the all-consuming pleasure that wracks you has taken over your body.

You slump over Kankri's back, but don't try to pull your dick out of him. Kankri's arm moves frantically, hand between his legs. He's clenching down on your dick and you're kind of oversensitive now but it's hot to feel him so close to coming just because of you fucking him. You press a tired kiss to his sweaty neck and reach underneath him to pinch his nipple. He lets out a tiny high-pitched gasp as you roll the bud between your fingers, and maybe that was the last bit he needed to get him over the edge, because he goes tense and trembling beneath you and you can perfectly envision his dick coming all over the bedclothes. Hah, he can have the wet spot.

Somehow, when you've disentangled yourselves, _you_ end up in the wet spot. This is symbolic of basically your entire life. Your come is leaking out of Kankri, and you know that because you put your hand between his legs and feel it drip out onto your fingers.

Normally, you'd let him get on with cleaning it up as soon as you'd got your breath back - because that means he's got his breath back too, which usually means he's back to blathering and you're just trying to enjoy the afterglow and you have to leave the room so you don't strangle him - but what the hell, it's nearly Christmas. So you grab a tissue from the bedside table and put your hand back between his thighs to start wiping up the come. He flinches when you touch his hole, like he's oversensitive now he's been fucked, so you do it again a couple of times. He looks good like this, lying on his back all flushed and fucked-out, letting you do what you like to his boneless form. You make sure to 'wipe' his cock too, just to get the same oversensitive flinch. Again: if it were safe to take a picture, you'd have your phone out right now.

You have to head back to your own room. Dad wouldn't think anything of it if he found you fully dressed in the same bed tomorrow morning, probably, but you're not sleeping in Kankri's bed. That would be _weird_.

Kankri, unusually, hasn't started getting his clothes in order by the time you've pulled up your shorts and wriggled to the edge of the bed. He' s just looking at you. You'd call the look in his eyes 'beseeching'.

He's so weirdly sentimental about about a bit of no-strings messing about. It's not like the two of you _like_ each other. You lean over and give him a kiss anyway. You mean to make it quick, but it's more lingering. Post-orgasm endorphins and tiredness, probably.

"Good night, Karkat," says Kankri when you pull away and stand up.

"Night," you say roughly. Kankri looks like he might be gearing up for a speech, so you flee with ungentlemanly haste. Your body is tingling pleasantly with satisfaction as you cross the landing, open your door and get into your own bed; you don't want to know how Kankri was going to ruin it this time. That's Kankri for you: always chatting shit about things he doesn't understand.


End file.
